January 15, 2009

Living on a ship as a guest entertainer allows me the opportunity to meet and become friends with people I would never have the chance to otherwise: World champion ballroom dancers, Olympic gymnasts, legendary singers, award winning magicians, and Broadway caliber dancers.

And then there’s the one-off guest entertainers that come on board that I call space fillers. The ship needs entertainment every night of it’s itinerary and so sometimes acts come on board that leave me bewildered.

For example, the comedy duo that has purportedly been working together for the last 33 years, and their act shows it. It’s an act of comedy, impressions and singing and if you’re under the age of 60 you’re going to miss out on over half of their material. The fun for me is not watching the show but watching the audience’s reaction. It’s horrified as they see one of them don a old fashioned pilots cap and goggles and do a Japanese pilot from WWII impression. Their big bit is a French character who tells the audience they need “Happiness” in their life only when he says it with his French accent it sounds like he’s saying “A Penis” Ooh boy does the audience have a hoot over that one. No, no they don’t.

The crazy violinist was interesting. I found myself with my foot in my mouth after breakfast one morning when I asked Rance if he had seen the promotional poster down by the theater advertising his act. He looked like a pervy kids’ programming character. A mix between Albert Einstein and something from The Wiggles. Of course as I turned to leave the restaurant I realized Mr. Crazypants was sitting right behind me. His act like his hair was frenetic and all over the place. And once again I watched the audience sit their unsure of what they were really seeing.

We recently had a banjo virtuoso on board who literally asked “Who’s ready to rock?” while pumping his fist in the air with devil horns at the top of his show. This little man in a three-piece suite then sat down daintily on a white stool and strummed his heart out. He was the rain man of the banjo. And I left the theater with an unfulfilled desire to rock.

The juggler/balancing acts are always confusing to me. Their shows often have a high failure rate; We’re on a rocking ship for god’s sake! And almost all of them have a portion of their act where they say “this is the first time you’ll see something like this performed. I’m the only one in the world who does this” And then the poor guy does a trick that I just saw the juggler from three weeks ago do, only slightly better.

I feel really lucky to be doing a show that I love doing. That I know the audience loves too. And that I’m not doing it because I’ve reached a point in my career that I feel I can’t do anything else. There’s a palatable sense of desperation that comes off such acts. And more than anything I want to keep pushing myself so I don’t put off that scent. But at least I know that if I want, if things get really tough, I can brush off my Carol Channing impression and get work on a cruise ship.